Classy Lady
by Keitorin09
Summary: Kagome is a fulltime worker at her topnotch publishing company, but is void of an actual social life. Sesshomaru is a famous author in search of a new publisher after his previous publishing deal went awry. Let the personality clash begin. SK Rated M
1. Mean Editor Calls me Cliche

**Classy Lady ****Chapter 1: Mean Editor Calls Me Cliché**

"_**Cautious, careful people always casting about to preserve their reputation or social standards never can bring about reform. Those who are really in earnest are willing to be anything or nothing in the world's estimation, and publicly and privately, in season and out, avow their sympathies with despised ideas and their advocates, and bear the consequences." **_**Susan B. Anthony**

A high-pitched screech bounced around my ear drums. I rolled to my right side and batted an eyelash halfway open, and squinted until I made out the digitized red numbers. **7:04.**

"Shit," my sleep deprived voice croaked loudly. Keeping my rolling motion from before, I tossed myself off my feather comforter, and stepped my small feet onto the floor. The oak hardwood was freshly cleaned, and extremely icy to my touch.

After shaking my right foot awkwardly in the air to jerk it awake, I carried myself to the bathroom. Bright beams of sunlight shot through the skylight and outlined my silhouette in the mirror. I traced my raccoon eyes, realizing I should have taken time when I got home last night to wash my eye makeup off.

Thirty minutes later, my heels clicked on the hardwood as I chatted on my cell phone, and simultaneously brushed my teeth. I am not exactly the best multi-tasker, but I attempted.

"'Ello, love, running late again?" I could almost picture his smile, and what a divine smile it was.

"Don't make fun of me, you ass. You know perfectly well I would wake up late, and yet you didn't even have the decency to call me. What a gentleman you are!" I gently teased him. He laughed again, one of those laughs I could picture going straight to his mocha orbs.

After cursing at him once more, I hung up, finished my daily brushing, and stuffed my black cell in my oversized purse. "This is going to be a ridiculously long day."

**8:15**. I sat at my large desk, black pumps tapping away at the flooring impatiently. _How does this man think he can go into marketing with such a pathetic pitch towards a top-notch editing company? He has absolutely no tact. Look at his face, does he actual think he's nailing this interview? _That thought made me narrow my eyes towards the young man. _He has another thing coming if he thinks I'm going to let him step out of this office with a signed contract in hand._

I was pulled abruptly from my thoughts as Mr. Johnson, as he called himself, pulled out a manuscript and smiled charmingly my way. "Well, what do you think? Pretty creative ideas I have, don't you think Miss? It is Miss, isn't it, I don't mean to assume, but it seems to me like a woman of your class would have trouble finding a man to equal up to your standards."

_That ballsy son of a bitch! How dare he assume anything about me? I'll tell him exactly what orifice he can shove his manuscript._

I could be cruel, I knew, but I couldn't help my train of thought at this man's audacity. Then he winked at me. _That pompous ass!_ I launched myself up, startling him as my heels beat harshly against the flooring.

"Mr. Johnson, if you would please escort yourself from my office," I said dryly, hoping I left no room for argument.

He looked befuddled, amusingly enough. "Miss, I'm afraid I'm confused, aren't I meeting for an agreement? I was under the impression that this was a final interview to meet with the man in charge to sign my book contract." I raised my right eyebrow up briefly.

"Excuse me? I don't know who in the hell gave you that information, but there is no "man" in charge, I am in charge. My name is Kagome Higurashi, and I am the CEO of Higurashi incorporated, hence the name **Higurashi**!" My voice was still the same level of volume, but more frigid by vast degrees.

He stared at me incredulously, big blue eyes of charm now switched to shock. _Good, it's about time he realized who he was flirting with. I'm absolutely not in the mood._

"Also," I continued impersonally, "we've never met before, so why exactly did you think you would pass by the preliminaries to a signed contract?" He at least had the common sense to look somewhat abashed after my words.

"We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, Miss," his charm came back. Strained somewhat, but it had returned none the less.

"No, I think your inappropriate behavior towards someone you thought was a mere employee just goes to show why I'm not pursuing this interview. It doesn't much matter though, with your cliché ideas, I'm sure it would be absolutely dreadful for me to sign you anyway." My cheery smile was bitter, and I loved the satisfaction I was getting from the look on his face. Somewhere between pissed off and horrified. (Which one it resembled the most, I will never know.)

Briefly after, he stomped out, manuscript in hand, biting curses towards me. This was such a usual occurrence for me; I supposed it was easily amusing. I, respectfully, am an experienced editor and business major at 29 years of age, and I sure as hell didn't go to college for ten years to be treated like I'm insignificant. Business running smoothly, and highly successful, I wasn't about to let some egotistical, untalented writer test my success.

**9:00 a.m**. A gentle knock woke me up from my cat nap. I raised me head gently, and beckoned for their entrance. Miroku walked in, not looking as happy as he sounded on the phone this morning.

"I'm going to assume you didn't come here to chat," I stated innocently. He balefully glared at me, but he was one of the few I accepted that from. One of the few I respected even minutely, in fact. Obviously, my personality had so much attitude and independence, that there was no room for patience. I believe I had an ounce of space in my body reserved in that department, and Miroku held about half of the ounce.

"This was his second book, Kagome. We were really looking forward to keeping him as a client. What were you thinking? I know that you're in charge now, but this is absurd. How do you expect to keep our top clients if you insult them every half second?" He lectured me like a kindergarten child. I could picture Mrs. Fulton, my kindergarten teacher pointing her ruler at me and scolding me before I burst into tears. Tears were one thing I had outgrown, if not lectures.

"I didn't really insult him per say, merely spoke the truth," I replied evenly.

"Ha! You told an already published author that he was cliché, for the love of God Kagome, what has gotten into you?" Miroku seemed cross, but pleased anyway.

"Oh please, he was rude, disrespectful, and hit on me, all of the things I hate about men. Besides, maybe I'll get my own article in People," I smiled wickedly; "I can see the headline now, '_Mean Editor calls me cliché_.'

A smirk rose on his lips. "Okay, okay, but you can't keep this up. If we go out of business, you still have to pay me my salary, no exceptions."

I laughed out loud at that, "Miroku the Hentai, lifetime employee, to pamper me at my will. You sure you're up for the job? You'd be surprised what you could have to do to earn your keep." I winked at him jokingly. His smile widened at the insinuation.

"Oh, you old folks, so naiive to young people and their intentions," I sighed.

He made a choking sound in the back of his throat akin to a snort. "I'm 35 years old Kagome, it's not like I'm a geezer," then he beamed briefly, "Besides, I may like that new job offer, maybe I should get fired," he returned my wink suggestively and walked out of my office.

The two floors below me had to have heard me laughing, and I soon realized how long it had been since I had been so humored, as sad as that thought may be. My soul was being warped by my pessimism. "Damnit, I need a vacation," I groaned.

**Authors Note: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Obviously this isn't exactly based off of the anime/manga, besides the characters names and a few mannorisms. Kagome's persona is how I'd like her to be, and Sesshomaru's will be as in character as I can. Speaking of that demon, he will appear in chapter two, if my story is deemed worthy of continuing. I would Appreciate any and all reviews. (they make me smile) Thank you!! Toodles! Keitorin**


	2. Meeting the Demon King

It was a lovely Tuesday morning in April. The birds were chirping their saccharine tunes that often signal the beginning of spring. And Sesshomaru was sitting patiently awaiting his obnoxious assistant. Rather, he appeared to be patient. However, anyone that had spent even five minutes in his presence knew that there was no way, unless hell froze over, that Sesshomaru's patience would remain intact when his high pitched, annoying employee was late. And not just late, but ten whole minutes late. Jaken has been working as an editor for Sesshomaru for twenty years, but had been involved in the demon's life for much, much longer. Ever since the D/H (Demon/Human) laws had been put into effect, Jaken had been no longer a servant, but a paid "employee". However, it didn't change the fact that Jaken still groveled to, adored, and practically worshipped his boss.

An entire two minutes passed by in which Sesshomaru contemplated how much of a pay cut he should administer upon the wretched toad - before said toad came sliding into the office.

"Sesshomaru – Sama!! Please fooooorgive me!!!" He screeched.

_What I wouldn't give to have a sword with me._

"Jaken…cease your squalling." Abruptly, the toad was silent, but remained bowing low towards his beloved master. Sesshomaru barely refrained from stomping on him as he stood and made his way out of the room.

"Did you at the very least make an appointment with the new publisher?" He inquired coldly.

"Ah yyyesss, I did, Sesshomaru -Sama!"

"Good. Then let us leave"

* * *

It was ten o'clock in the morning. I still had thirty minutes. I could do this, I kept telling myself. It wasn't as if I was meeting anyone of extreme significance. Only a world famous demon, which was now making oobs and gobs of cash by writing adventure stories. Instead of screaming, which would be my usual solution to feeling overworked and stressed, I dialed Miroku.

"Yes, my sweet?" He answered in his most flirtatious voice.

"Get your perverted ass over here. Now." I hung up. I didn't have time to flirt. I had thirty minutes to pull myself together, become the professional, upstanding lady that I was and look like the CEO of this company.

In all of one minute, Miroku had barged into my room and made himself comfortable in my plush black chair.

"It will be absolutely fine, love. You've worked with macho guys before. I'm sure he doesn't have anything you haven't dealt with before," he reassured me.

"But he's THE Sesshomaru Taisho. You can't get any more damned prestigious than that! And for fuck's sake, Miroku, he's thousands of years old!" I was whining, I knew, but I just couldn't help it. I had received a phone call at seven a.m from this creepy little raspy voiced man, and now I had an appointment with the Daiyoukai himself to discuss becoming his new publisher. This was the deal of a lifetime. And if I got it, not only would I be getting a hefty sum of money, but I could also afford to take my vacation.

He slapped me in the face. I stared at him, astounded.

"Relax. You are gorgeous. You are successful. And you are a lady."

I remained silent and just stared.

"Repeat it, Kagome," he prompted me like a five year old.

"I am gorgeous. I am successful. I am…a lady," I said hesitantly. But in actuality I felt like a small child getting ready to face the big bad wolf.

* * *

Five minutes until Taisho and his assistant arrived, and I felt fabulous. I had had a vanilla chai tea latte, freshened up, and all the while Miroku's mantra was running through my head.

A light knock at my door caught my attention. I rose, straightened my black skirt, took a few breaths, and quickly answered, "You may enter."

Miroku offered me a smile as he escorted a little shrimpy toad demon inside. I couldn't help but gawk. What the hell was this little thing doing serving Sesshomaru? I had thought Mr. Taisho would have higher standards, but apparently I'd been mistaken. The toad drawled some rubbish about his almighty Lord for about five minutes, five minutes of my life that I had lost and not heard a damned word of, before he bowed and went to bring Sesshomaru in.

I bit my tongue…literally bit it…. almost completely off. The pictures just didn't do this demon justice. My gods was he gorgeous. And successful. And fabulous. But NOT a lady. However, in his case that was a very, very good thing. He was definitely all male. I could practically smell the pheromones oozing off of him. I was very proud of myself for maintaining my look of nonchalance. After all, it wouldn't look good in front of a potential client to drool on his very expensive Italian leather shoes.

I offered my hand to him. "Good morning Mr. Taisho, and may I be the first to formally welcome you to Higurashi Incorporated," I said in my most confident business-like voice.

He glanced at my hand briefly before ignoring it altogether, offering merely a nod, and sitting down… In MY chair. My very comfortable, specially ordered, black plush chair. What was it with everyone stealing my god damned chair today? I grit my teeth and casually dropped my hand that was still waiting in the air before sitting opposite him.

There was a brief silence before I decided I'd better keep the conversation going.

"So then, I gather we should begin. Given your history and the past success of your novels, I'm going to tell you we'd be glad to have you as a sponsored author," I began.

"Of course you would," he replied arrogantly. I could feel my jaw twitch. Miroku must have noticed, because his hand quickly dropped to my shoulder in a silent reminder to keep on my best behavior.

I remained silent as I brought out the contract and began my pitch. Basically I said my company was amazing and he should pretty-pretty please sign with us. Of course, I made it sound particularly more eloquent and less needy and desperate. After I'd finished, he carefully read over the contract, editing things as he went. Finally, after three painstakingly long, miserable hours of my short life, Sesshomaru signed his book contract with Higurashi Inc. A sigh practically leapt out of my mouth.

Jaken began quickly gathering their belongings and rambling to Taisho. I suddenly realized why I'd immediately detested the little demon. His shrill voice reminded me of something…familiar. _Oh my God! His voice drones on just like my alarm clock. That damned annoying high pitched squeal!" _I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.

"The little, er, man isn't going to be coming with you, is he?" I inquired as kindly as possible.

He allowed a brief look at the toad before giving a small shrug. "Jaken, you're being demoted. You may remove your belongings from your office immediately. And inform Sango she will be responsible for your duties hence forth, and vice versa," he replied in an uncaring voice. He then stood his six foot three inch body of beauty up and left, his ego ballooning miles behind him. And a depressed green demon lagging behind him.

I glared at Miroku as soon as the door closed. " There is positively no way I'm going to be able to hold my tongue every time that frustrating, egotistical demon is around."

He scoffed. "I really don't see how you're going to have any other options. And keep your voice down, they aren't far enough away yet," he whispered harshly.

I sighed. "This is going to be hell, isn't it?"

His voice softened as he smiled sympathetically. "I'm pretty sure it's going to be worse than hell, love. You are facing the King of all demons himself."

My forehead met my desk, and if I didn't feel so pathetic, I think I may have cried for myself.

* * *

I'm so sorry for the humongous delay!! I know it's short, but atleast it's out, right? Love you all. Thanks for the support. R&R!!


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